


Possession

by Anonymous



Series: Affection, Devotion [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha Upgraded Connor | RK900, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angry Sex, Biting, Bottom Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Human Upgraded Connor | RK900, Knotting, Light Bondage, M/M, Omega Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Possessive Behavior, Sibling Incest, Top Upgraded Connor | RK900, reverse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Nines drags Connor home from CyberLife tower.
Relationships: Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900
Series: Affection, Devotion [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992811
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67
Collections: Anonymous





	Possession

The scent of Nines's anger is thick in the air, and Connor is dizzied by it. Nines's hand is wrapped tightly around Connor's wrist, pulling him none too gently through the door to their house as soon as Nines can open it. 

"Nines," Connor starts as they head further inside, and his brother answers by pushing Connor against a wall. 

Nines's eyes glint a strange silver in the dimness of their unlit hallway. His expression is tight. Controlled. "You could have died," he says lowly. 

Connor swallows, looking off to the side. "I didn't."

"Because  _ I  _ stepped in," Nines hisses, face nearly touching Connor's as he grips his collar. "Because I chose to shoot when you wouldn't."

That's… true. The memory is still burned into his mind—Hank's lookalike taking him hostage, Hank himself arriving, the fight, the stalemate. Connor hesitated, and both moved, suddenly, towards him—his gun was forced out of his hands, and then—the gunshot. The moment of barely-contained shock and fear as Connor looked at Hank's face, a bullet in his forehead, as Connor wondered for a brief, terrifying moment if it was the Hank he knew. 

It wasn't, but he's pretty sure Nines didn't care, because when he came out of the side, he still had his gun pointed at Hank. Only after his eyes flicked to Hank's chest did he sniff and pocket his gun before turning his attention to Connor. 

He'd hugged Connor tightly then, the scent of fear seeping through what was left of his scent blocker. But after Hank deviated the androids, after he left and Connor and Nines started the drive home, the scent shifted towards the anger it is now. 

Nines is never mad. Frustrated, irritated, maybe on a somewhat regular basis, but not mad. It makes Connor's knees weak, his instincts telling him:  _ submit to your alpha.  _

A low growl comes from Nines's throat, and a hand grabs Connor's chin and pulls him back to face Nines. "Look at me.  _ Why  _ did you get yourself into that situation?"

Connor swallows, fighting the urge to drop his gaze to the floor. "I had to go," Connor defends, voice quivering. "The lookalike—I knew something was off, but if he was going to try to kill Hank, I had to stop him."

Nines's face twitches. "Even if it meant putting yourself at risk of death?"

Deep breath. "Yes."

For a moment, Nines doesn't say anything. But with the way his scent swells, musky and furious, Connor knows it isn't over. He's surprised when Nines pulls away, but then he grabs Connor by the wrist in an ironclad grip before moving towards—their bedroom. 

Oh. 

Nines kicks open the door before dragging Connor over and practically throwing him onto the bed. Connor lets out an "oomph" as he hits the surface, turning himself to look at Nines, who is— _ shaking.  _ His fists are clenched to his sides, and expression is stormy. 

"If you need me to stop," he says tightly, "say 'red.' I won't otherwise."

Connor swallows, feeling the curl of anticipation and fear and arousal and his gut. "Okay," he says softly, and then in moments Nines is on him, straddling him, hand pressing lightly at his throat. 

"Do you have  _ any _ idea of what you make me go through?" he hisses, pressing down. 

Connor feels his breaths tightening, quickening, and he grabs Nines's arm with both of his hands. "Nines—"

"Every time you're injured," Nines continues, leaning in close, "Every time you have a brush of death, and I only know because someone else tells me—do you have  _ any  _ idea of what it's like?" 

Connor doesn't get the chance to respond, because then Nines is biting down on his neck, hard, and he makes a sound between a gasp and a moan and a whine as his body goes lax and pliant. He bares his neck further for his alpha, and Nines bites down even harder, breaking skin. 

Connor whimpers at the pain, lifting his arms up to cling to Nines, but Nines only growls, grabbing them and pushing them above Connor's head. 

He lifts away from Connor's neck, eyes dark and teeth bloody. He tugs Connor's tie off with his other hand, and—wraps it around Connor's wrists, tying him to the headboard. 

Fuck. Connor feels a hot drop of slick slide out of him. He squirms at the feeling, but then Nines is making quick work of Connor's belt and pants, tossing them somewhere off to the side, and Connor's arousal is bared to the air.

Nines doesn't even comment on it. He slides his own pants off, revealing his own dick at half-mast. A flicker of uncertainty passes over his face, but it disappears quickly and he crawls up, bracing the headboard as he presses his dick against Connor's lips. "Suck," he says, and Connor feels the submission wash over his mind at the command. 

He opens his mouth obediently, and without warning, Nines grabs Connor's hair and shoves himself in. Connor chokes, spasming against his bonds, and Nines pulls out, letting him breathe—but not for long before he shoves himself back inside. 

All Connor can do is let his mouth go slack, doing his best to suck gently whenever Nines lingers in his mouth. Nines says nothing, but Connor can hear his breath become shaky as his length swells to fullness at Connor's attention. Connor can't read his brother's expression, though, especially with the tears building in his eyes every time Nines hits his throat. 

Then, without warning, Nines pulls away. Connor gasps at the chance to breathe unimpeded, closing his eyes as his chest heaves, but he doesn't have much of a break before a finger is shoved into his hole. 

Connor whimpers, opening his eyes to see Nines watching him intently, expression still stony as he inserts another finger, thrusting in and out, loud squelches accompanying the action. Connor moans softly, spreading his legs as he feels slick drip out of him. Soon, Nines adds a third, scissoring him roughly, haphazardly, before he pulls out his fingers. Connor's breath stutters—he knows that was hardly enough preparation, but—in a forceful movement, he's turned over. His face is pressed against the pillows, his wrists are twisted in his tie, and Nines is lifting up his hips, pressing a heat against his hole— 

Nines thrusts in without warning, and Connor can't help the yell that's forced out of him as pleasure, pain, and fullness lances through him. He jerks against the tie strongly enough to make the headboard shudder with force, but Nines only presses a hand to the back of Connor's bloodied neck and starts hammering into him mercilessly. 

Connor shakes and groans and whines, tears slipping out as he makes little sounds, "ah, ah, hng, ngah," able to do nothing but take Nines's punishment. That's what it is, isn't it? Because it  _ hurts,  _ even though it feels good, and maybe that heightens the pleasure even more. But at this point, all he can think is that Nines is upset, his alpha is upset, he has to be good, he has to take it. 

Then Nines nails his prostate, and Connor makes a sound like both a gasp and shout, repeated when Nines does it again and again until all Connor can do is whimper and squeeze the tie binding his hands. 

His orgasm takes him almost by surprise. He lets out a low moan as Nines hits his prostate once more, spilling onto the bedsheets, and Nines slows. Stills. Then he leans against Connor, whispering in his ear, "Did I say you could come?" and a bolt of fear-regret-submission goes through him— 

But then Nines is thrusting into him again, harshly, not giving Connor a chance to recover from the stimulation. He hits Connor's prostate every time, and Connor whimpers as the aftershocks go through him, as his tears stain the pillow under him. 

He loses track of time as Nines continues to thrust into him like a machine, untiring, unending, until overstimulation returns to pleasure and Connor's whimpers return to gasps. 

But this time, Nines reaches for Connor's dick. Not to stroke him, but to grip the base, and Connor jerks in alarm as Nines's pace increases, slamming into him mercilessly, bringing him closer and closer to a peak but just not letting him reach it. 

"N-ah, Nines, please," Connor gasps. 

"What, Connor," Nines answers, breathless, not at all pausing in his place. "You want to come? Do you think you deserve it?" 

Connor sobs, arching his back as Nines nails him in the prostate once more. "Hnf, ah, god, please!"

"Don't ask some  _ god, _ " Nines hisses against his ear. "You're  _ mine." _

"Yes," Connor gasps, "yes, yes, Nines, I'm yours, I'm sorry!" And from there something breaks, and tears are pouring out of his eyes, emotions spilling from his heart. "I'm sorry I, ah, I'm sorry, please!"

Nines slows down, enough for Connor to catch his breath. "For what?" Nines asks lowly.

"For—" Connor swallows, "for making you worry. For putting myself in danger. Because—my life isn't just mine. It's yours, too."

Nines says nothing for a moment. Then he peels away from Connor's back, pulling out and letting go, and for a moment Connor thinks he said the wrong thing. But then Nines is turning him over to his back, turning him to face Nines, and—even though Nines's expression is still blank, his eyes swim in a way that makes him look like he's on the verge of tears. 

"Nines—nngh," Connor groans as Nines enters him again without a word, gently at first. Connor wraps his legs around Nines's hips, holding his brother the only was he can with his wrists pinned above him.

Nines presses his face against Connor's neck, teeth against his scent glands. He picks up the pace, thrusting with soft grunts until his movements grow erratic, and then he reaches down to stroke Connor. 

Connor gasps, arching his back as he comes again, staining both of their shirts. It must be enough for Nines, because wraps his arms tightly around Connor before he bites down again. With one more thrust, pushes his knot inside Connor and shudders, slowly filling him with come. 

Connor lets himself lie motionless for a few minutes, coming down from the intensity of the pleasure and emotions, basking in his brother's warmth. Then he tests the tie around his wrists, trying to see if he can slip free. 

He can't, as it turns out. Nines is really good at knots. … In multiple ways. 

Connor pauses at the thought, amusement bubbling in him. He shakes his head and suppresses it, instead turning his head to press his lips against Nines's hair. "Nines? Back yet?"

Nines makes a soft sound and squeezes him tighter, which is as good an answer as any. 

"Come on," Connor says. "Can you let me out of this?"

Nines shakes his head.

Connor blinks. "Why?"

A pause, and then Nines unlatches his teeth. "Don't wanna let you go," he mumbles. His voice shakes, like it does when he's crying. 

… Oh. 

"I won't go," Connor promises. Not like he can move with Nines stuck in him, anyway. "Nines, I promise I'll be right here with you."

"Forever?" he asks, and Connor knows both of them know it's a childish question, but when Nines gets like this— 

"Yeah," Connor says. "I'm with you forever." 

Nines sniffs and lifts himself up without meeting Connor's eyes. He makes quick work of the tie, freeing Connor and tossing the item off to the side before tucking his head right back against Connor's neck, breathing deeply. 

Now that Connor's free, he immediately wraps one arm around his brother's back and uses his other hand to start carding through Nines's hair. "I'm here, Nines," he murmurs softly. "I'm right here."

Nines lets out a shaky breath. "If you died," he says softly, "I don't think I'd be able to live anymore."

Connor pauses. "Nines…"

"Call me dependent if you want. I don't care. Without you… nothing would matter. So," he says, before Connor has the chance to respond, "don't you dare die on me."

"I won't," Connor promises. He really isn't any better than Nines in his own dependency—he's just lucky Nines doesn't have a life-threatening job. He needs to be better to his brother. "I won't leave you alone."

Nines squeezes Connor tightly. "Okay," he mumbles. "Love you, Connor."

Connor closes his eyes, pressing a kiss to his brother's temple. "Love you too, Nines," he says, and continues running his fingers through his brother's hair. 

Despite the sweaty, sticky mess they are, and despite the heavy weight of Nines filling him up, he feels the pull towards oblivion. As Nines's breaths even out, he finds his pace slowing, his focus drifting, until he finally falls asleep, intertwined with his brother. 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about this for a while! Connor is reckless and Nines hates it. Only because he loves his brother so much. 
> 
> If you're wondering why Nines is so good with a gun, I'm wondering that too.


End file.
